Dystopia
by Oilux
Summary: Dystopia: a place completely opposite that of a utopia, one filled with chaos and destruction, where war rages and people are dehumanized.


This takes place a couple hundred years into the future. Resources are almost gone, and as a result there are wars everywhere to get much needed materials and land. Almost every country left is either bankrupt, insane, or both. By this point everything is so destructive that the Nations are falling apart, and can be killed just like the humans that they represent.

* * *

Lovino stared down at the cocky man in front of him. Spain lounged in his chair, legs crossed in a manner that would scream to anyone that in the room that he was the one in charge, that he was the one making all the decisions. His elbow rested lightly on the chair, his hand coming up to support his head. Finally there was that grin, the one that covered his whole face and made it seem that he ruled the world. It was the grin that a King would wear. Lovino couldn't stare at that face any longer without wanting to punch him.

"Do we have a deal, _cariño_?" he asked lightly, already knowing his answer. Lovino hissed lightly at the pet name, but he didn't let out the normal stream of curses that wanted so badly to flow past his lips. Instead Lovino chewed his bottom lip, frantically thinking of a way out of the situation that he was in. He couldn't think of one.

"You promise Feliciano won't get hurt?" he challenged. Feliciano was the only reason he was here, staring down at the floor, and chewing his lip raw. Things had gone downhill fast, and a sure plan that they thought would work blew up in their faces. Spain didn't answer, he just smiled the same grin and held out his hand. There wasn't conformation or denial of his question, it simply remained open in the air.

Lovino felt like he had no choice. With the image of his brother smiling and happy, he raised his shaking hand and lowered it into Spain's hand. Tears began to prick at the corners of his eyes as he felt Spain's hand and long fingers wrap not around his hand but around his wrist like a snake coiling around its prey. The deal was done, he belonged to Spain. It was official when he was pulled from his standing spot and into Spain's lap. He didn't bother to stop the tears this time as Spain nuzzled his face into Lovino's neck.

How did it ever get to this point?

* * *

Italy walked rapidly behind England, always staying two steps behind him as they walked down the streets that were pouring rain. Italy hated the cold almost as much as America did, but since it was raining so hard there was no one on the streets to see the actions that were about to happen. In his belt was a revolver, the one that Lovino gave him, and in his right hand were clenched several slips of paper. England glanced behind him, giving Italy a confused glance. Italy realized that they had reached a dead end of an alley.

"Here is good," he muttered shakily, bringing his gun out of its hiding place. England stared at the gun in shock, hands rising in defense.

"Come on lad put that down. No need for anyone to get hurt right?" England was already panicking even though the gun hadn't been pointed up from the ground. He was weaponless, his only hope here would be to talk his way out of there.

Feliciano stared at the gun in his left hand. He should probably change it to his right hand if he was really going to do this. He had to do it though, he had to, to get Lovino, his brother back. Slowly, he moved his gun from his left hand to his right, making sure that he kept his papers safe from the rain falling. Arthur stared at the gun as it switched hands, finally looking up and staring into Feliciano's eyes. They were dull, more lifeless than when Holy Rome had died at the hands of France. They weren't a honey brown that was bursting with life, but now they looked like the mud and dirt beneath their feet. To top it off he had bags under his eyes, making him look as if he hadn't slept in days.

"Haven't you been paid yet? You said that you were taking me home!" There was the old Arthur coming out again. His fear was starting to give way and let his repressed anger show through. Feliciano narrowed his eyes, and in a flash he threw his crumpled notes on the ground. Arthur watched them flutter to the ground.

"This is the response I got! Look, no one cares about you Arthur Kirkland! They didn't even send me and my brother enough money to keep you fed for a day," he screamed with venom in his voice. Arthur knelt to the ground, staring at the papers which were beginning to dissolve into nothing. Yet the words were still clear.

'_The price has been tripled.'_

'_Here is a down payment. With the money that you are asking for I could buy the entire Republic of Italy."_

'_Then do your best.'_

"You're making this up!" Arthur yelled back. Feliciano raised his gun so that it was pointing at Arthur's feet instead of the ground.

"You wish that I was," Feliciano said quietly. It was true though, Arthur did wish that. He wished that someone had sent the Italian his poor money that he so desperately wanted, all so that he could leave.

"It's not my fault that you kidnapped the nation that everyone hates!" Arthur screamed back. Being held for ransom and his friends not even caring enough to send _something _to keep him alive hurt more than a bullet would.

"You're one of the most powerful nations! We thought your allies would chip in or at least your people would! But no, Arthur Kirkland, no one cared enough about you to spend a dime to make sure that you could eat. The gun had traveled higher, as Arthur had finally gotten up from his knees, ignoring how his pants were soaked, chilling his legs to the bone.

"Shut up! You're the one who let your nation fall into so much debt, even bigger than America's! And then you go kidnap me, we would have just helped you if you really needed it…" Arthur trailed off. Feliciano felt anger rise up inside of him.

"It was a perfect plan and you ruined it! All we were going to do was keep you for a week, until we got some money. Italia was dying, it needed money, and fast. Now, because of you Arthur Kirkland, we are going to hell," Feliciano said ruefully, stalking forward. He placed the tip of his gun against Arthur's chest, lightly digging it into the flesh. His finger lightly pressed down trigger, bordering on firing his gun.

"Your friends wouldn't pay for your freedom, so I think that it's about time that England found a new personification, don't you?" Feliciano snared, his finger tightening around the trigger.

_BANG!_

Feliciano fell to the ground with a sickening thud, his chest blooming blood. His chocolate eyes were wide, for the first time in a long time showing the fear and real emotions that he had been feeling all along. He slumped forward, landing face first in the dank street of the alley, and the blood dripping and pooling around him, mixing in with the rain. Arthur stared down at him in shock, wondering what had happened. He looked up to see Alfred standing there, gun in hand. His gun was still smoking too.

"Alfred…." Arthur breathed, running forward. He launched himself into Alfred's arms, taking solace in the warmth of his former colony.

"I thought I was going to die," Arthur murmured, wrapping his arms around Alfred. Alfred held him just as tightly, Borrowing his face into the crook of Arthur's neck.

"You didn't think that I would let you just die on me would you?" Alfred asked, his voice muffled by Arthur's skin.

They left together, standing side by side proudly as the nations of America and Britain. Feliciano was still there, lying face down and bleeding. No one found him until a week later. No one ever had the heart to tell his brother. Lovino lived with Spain for the rest of his days.

Fin.

* * *

Notes:

_cariño: _darling (Spanish)

If you don't understand what happened, Italy was going bankrupt and about to fall and dissolve. As an attempt to stop it, they kidnapped Britain and held him for ransom, but no one was willing to fork up cash for him. Romano went to Spain as a _seriously _last ditch effort to save Italy. The agreement was that Spain would save Italy if Romano gave up his body to him. Feliciano, realizing that his brother was never going to come back took Britain to an alley and was going to kill him since they hadn't gotten any money and the nation was taking valuable food. Just before he was going to shoot Britain though, America appeared and saved him, but killing Italy in the process.


End file.
